Lyrics by Fred. E. Weatherly and Geo. Grossmith Junr.
[Chorus:]
By the shore of the Mediterranean
so blue, blue, blue,
They twang their guitars
And light your cigars,
They do, do, do.
And kiss you and talk in the starlight,
With a coo, coo, coo.
For the girls of the sun
are all roll'd into one
For you, you, you.
[Jim:]
I'm a Lord, what ho!
[Chorus:]
He's a Lord, don't cher know;
[Jim:]
I've a palace in Park Lane,
And sev'ral country houses.
I'm a blooming Peer,
[Chorus:]
Look at that aristocrat!
[Jim:]
It ain't the coat that makes the man,
Why dam-me! It's the trouses!
I'm a Lord, what ho!
[Chorus:]
He's a Lord, don't cher know;
[Jim:]
I've a palace in Park Lane,
And sev'ral country houses.
I'm a blooming Peer,
[Chorus:]
Look at that aristocrat!
[Jim:]
It ain't the coat that makes the man,
Why dam-me! It's the trouses!